Twisted Relationships
by Kirrae
Summary: With food. Tim meets the love of Dick Grayson's life.


A/N: Really silly one-shot about the true love of Dick Grayson's life, cereal. Mix of YJ and Comic personalities, but they all lean a little more toward their comic counter-parts, simply because we haven't seen them out of costume yet in SII.

Dedicated to IceyCold97 for listening to my crazy rants about how Dick/Cereal is my OTP and this fandom clearly needs more of it. And for encouraging my insanity.

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Tim was pretty sure that he understood the basic working dynamic of the erstwhile 'Batfamily' before he'd even been allowed on patrol, but the sight that greets him after the first friday night late shift has him wondering exactly how much he'd missed in training. He was an observant kid, a natural detective. He had to be, he'd stalked Batman and Robin for years without anyone knowing, and both Bruce and Dick had told him that often enough during his training that he'd actually started to believe it might be true. This, though, this was the kind of thing that an observant detective shouldn't have missed. It was obvious, blatant, and glaring at him from the Manor kitchen.

Richard John Grayson was in sweatpants, no shirt, precariously balanced at the edge of a stool, worshipping a bowl of cereal like it was some kind of deity. Alfred Pennyworth, faithful butler, looked on with a fond tolerance bred of years of familiarity and Tim Drake, newly adopted surrogate little brother, gaped like a dying carp.

Dick didn't look up when Tim entered the room, he didn't bound over and pull him into a hug or ruffle his hair, he didn't even acknowledge that the younger was in the room. He was focused on the cereal in a way that Tim rarely saw him outside of costume. In civvies, in the privacy of the manner, Dick was scattered energy. He'd walk like restraining his movements was painful and more often than not he moved around the manor by hand-springing down hallways, sliding down banisters, flipping over and off of the sturdier furniture (which Bruce had nailed to the floor a month after he'd moved in). He'd fidget in chairs, drum his fingers, and talk everyone's ears off. He was chatty, cheerful, and a total trickster. Dick multi-tasked because otherwise he'd just get bored too fast. Even on missions and on routine patrols Dick had a habit of doing two things at once. It was his standard operating procedure as much as stony silence was for Bruce.

So, the focus and lack of any enthusiasm was doubly disconcerting, especially since Dick was acting completely normal not five minutes before when Tim had left to change out of his Robin suit and head up to the Manor. Tim expected Dick to insist that he gorge himself on food and force-feed him pancakes before shooing him off to bed as he had the past week. Instead, Dick merely murmured to his bowl of cereal that it was the best thing that ever happened to him before taking a tentative spoonful, savoring the taste, and letting out a light moan.

Alfred made a noise of disapproval at that, but said nothing further, as if he knew it wouldn't be heard. He turned to Tim and gestured to a stool three down from Dick. Tim took it without hesitation. Babs wanders in slightly after a plate of pancakes are handed to Tim. She slaps Dick on the back of the head, calling him a dork, and he doesn't react. She sits down next to Tim, and they eat in silence. Or as close as you can get to silence with Dick Grayson's porn-star quality cereal appreciation moans coming from three feet away from you.

Tim was about half-way through with his breakfast when Bruce entered the kitchen, took one look at Dick, and raised an eyebrow at Alfred. When Alfred nodded toward a brightly colored box of cereal, Bruce's stare turned deadly, but the butler was unaffected and returned the stare with a look of perfect detachment and the matter was apparently dropped. At which point, Dick raised the bowl to his lips, drank the remnants of his cereal, and sniffled. He carried the bowl to the sink and washed it out, Alfred not even moving to stop him or try to reprimand him. Dick somehow managed to make dishwashing look mournful and Tim didn't know how that was possible.

Once the dish was clean, it was reverently placed on the drying rack and Dick spun with his usual grace and energy to lean against the countertop, an easy smile back on his face like the past few minutes hadn't happened at all.

"Hey Timmy, before we all pass out, there's a couple drills I wanna run you through in the gym. You could use some extra agility training. Looked like you were struggling to keep up out there a little bit. Meet me in ten, okay?" Dick deliberately walks past all of them to get up to his room, ruffling Tim's hair as he passes, poking Barbara in the side and claiming it was vengeance for the dork comment, and he whispers something in Bruce's ear before he leaves. Tim doesn't quite catch it, but he assumes it has to do with the silent conversation between Bruce and Alfred over the cereal.

The moment Dick is out the door, Tim turns to Barbara and just lets his expression show his surprise. She laughs a little and points at the cereal box. "Tim, meet the love of Dick's life."

Dick called from the hallway, "It is a tragic love affair and we don't appreciate your mockery, Babs!"


End file.
